Serenade to a Licorice Stick
Copyright 2004 by Bill Roban

I enter the room and see myself in the chair. I blink and
disappear into the air. I am a wanderer in darkness, only seeing
what may or may not be my past and future as I go by. Finally,
I stand in front of a mirror, and as I get closer, there is no
reflection. At my feet is a clarinet, Blue’s clarinet.

“Night and Day” comes forth on that sweet evening. I sit at the
table with Laura, Cassandra, Kelton, and the music brings us to a new
place once more. Moving across the dance floor, Laura and I, Cassandra
and Kelton, are not just listening to the song of the clarinet, but living it.

The clarinet passes under the bridge. I busy myself with stick ball, while
you are the Pied Piper of Queens. As I hear you, I wish I could do the
same but my fear is too obscene. One day you’ll teach me but now
the potential must slumber.

Your melody soars alongside the birds as the wedding cake is cut. I give you
the first piece and we stroll by the river. We laugh as I tell you that you
should have gotten over your shyness enough to say hello to Lenora, and
you mention that you never could have done so. What things a clarinet can
say that a man cannot!

I bend down and pick up the clarinet. I have taken good care of it, Blue, just
as I promised. I look into the mirror and see myself staring back. The hours, the
years, that have passed and now it’s just the clarinet and I, all alone.

Smiling, I tuck it into my coat and make my way to the antique store.



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